Kettle Trestles

One of the key facets of the Kettle Valley Railway is the number of trestles over rivers, creeks, washouts and other inpediments to train travel.  One cannot traverse a long section of the trail without the pleasure of crossing one of these structures.


Photo by: Kenneth Roy


In the Myra Canyon, until a cyclist was killed by tumbling off one of the trestles, the structures themselves had no guardrails of any kind which made for very hairy riding I'm sure.  My cycling friend Roy has ridden the canyon trestles with no guadrails and described it as being okay as long as you stay in the center.  Signs had been posted at that time commanding bike riders to dismount. (As if).

One of the vicims of the OK Mountain fire

The Okanagan Mountain fire destroyed a number of trestles as it swept uncontrolled through the canyon and it was with a great deal of expense and effort that the destroyed trestles were rebuilt for the enjoyment of thousands of cyclists, hikers and interested parties.  I rode a steam train a couple of years ago and the engineer explained the phenomenon of great clouds of steam being ejected from lower down on the engine - very picturesque.  Turns out the train engineer would release steam pressure when travelling over a trestle so that the moisture would dampen the railway ties and prevent cinders from the smokestack from igniting the wooden trestle.  Who knew?

A good place to find out more info on trestles is the book "McCullough's Wonder" which I found at the railway museum in Midway, B.C.  In the book are numerous pictures of the incredible engineering that went into building even the smallest trestle and you will be amazed at how the larger structures were constructed - you can see from the photo below how complicated they can be.  If I'm not mistaken, this is the trestle over Poole Creek in the Myra Canyon.


The guy is headed toward the train!



Bicycle Mail

Who doesn't like to get mail?  Especially in winter if it is a catalogue of bicycle tours arranged for the summer?


My wish book


My copy of the Adventure Cycling Association's 2012 Tours showed up in yesterday's mail and I couldn't wait to open it and dream.  You may remember that Sears used to call their Christmas catalogue the "Wish Book" and this booklet is no different.  Sitting in my most comfortable chair and enjoying the warm, low sun that is shining through my south facing windows, I became lost in a bicycle reverie.

Blissful reading

Taking me back to Charles Frazier's 1997 "Cold Mountain" I found a tour called the "Blue Ridge Bliss".  A dismounted cyclist resting against a stone wall and soaking up the view over the hazy blue mountains that stretch to the horizon.

Doesn't that look inviting?

Every left hand page has an enticing, glossy photo of some sort of cycling adventure - a couple cycling along a mountain lake, a group of cyclists resting against the weathered boards of a barn wall or tandem riders breezing along a sinuous, canopied road.

The Adventure Cycling Association offers a range of bike tours to suit all ages and all skill levels.  Everything from self supported tours to guided trips with a stop at a hotel or other accommodation each night.

While I might have my own plans for bike trips this summer, I still can dream can't I?

The Champeen

Everyone has their own reason for signing up for the Ms Tour. I would imagine that their reasons have a lot to do with MS.  I think of my friend Heather who has had MS for pretty much the whole of the thirty years I've known her.

After checking in and making our way to our room, the elevator door opened to reveal two middle-aged women who at the sight of us remarked "We remember you from last year!".  I gave them a baleful look and for the life of me could not place them.  I worried that perhaps I had been rude to them or offended them last year in some way as we rode up to our respective rooms.

It wasn't until breakfast the next day when we saw the two women dining that we realized that when we met them last year, they were accompanying their husbands who were doing the MS Mountain Tour for the first time.  While scarfing down breakfast we swapped tales of last year's debacle and marvelled at the prospect of sunny and warm temperatures this year.

I was amazed to discover that one of the men, John, had travelled all the way from Huntsville, Ontario to complete the 8 kilometers that he couldn't finish last year.  He had run out of gas at the last rest stop and was here this weekend to finish the tour.  That is not to say that John was simply going to travel to the last rest stop and pedal from there.  From the look of determination on his face, I could tell that this was a man with a mission.  This man was going all the way.

And to add icing to the cake, John had raised $2,000.00 for the cause.

What's In A Name?

The MS Mountain Tour wrapped up on Sunday and thanks to all the pledges received, the event raised over $330,000.00 to help defeat MS.  That is nearly $1,000.00 per entrant and when you consider how difficult the tour itself is, I'm always surprised when some riders tell me that raising the donations is harder than the ride itself.  My favourite method is to offer bicycle tune-ups in exchange for a minimum $25.00 donation.

A person can always do the tour as an individual or as a team member.  I've done the tour both ways and belonging to a team is much more fun.  Although I must say that with the team I belong to - "Mike's Wheels of Justice (the forked-up version)", I rarely see my team mates except when I show up on both days and they are set up right at the start line, with the pink ribbon stretching across their proud chests and I'm showing up what I consider to be early and having to put my bike at the back of the pack.  Oh, I could join them at the front but I know that in no time at all, they'll be out of sight.


My team mates all rarin' to go



The name of our team strikes a certain resonance with me as most people know me as "Mike".  My wife and children call me Mike, my neighbours know me as Mike and my extended families call me Mike.  So the team name rings a bell as it were.  I get a kick out of the team names that are often emblazoned across the front and back of jerseys.  "Chain Gang" is a good one.   A ladies team called the "Menstrucycles".  Or the "Handlebar Moustaches", "So and So and the Sore Arses", "Double Track Slackers" or my favourite - "The Bad Apples"  - a team who studied nutrition together at the U of A.  They always have apple emblems made from craft foam somewhere on their persons or on their bikes and they all look like they're having a swell time.

To quote the David Wilcox song:  Some people call me a bad apple
                                                        Well I might be bruised but I still taste sweet
                                                         Some people call me a bad apple
                                                         But I might be the sweetest apple on the tree!

Earthworm Thruway

The musty, slimy smell of eathworms covering the wet highway gave an added dimension to the rainy scene that unfolded before me at 6:30 in the morning of day 2 of the tour.  Everyone has seen the phenomenon of worms crawling across sidewalks and roads when it is raining.  There were so many of them on the highway that they created a smell.  I wouldn't go so far as to say that there was any danger of skidding off the road because of their numbers. But there was an inordinate number of platyhelminths to thread your way around.



Peace out man!

 It wasn't until 7:11 that another cyclist passed me while I was taking this picture of some creative road tar artistry.  The cyclist stopped long enough to ensure that I was okay and then pedalled off into the rain.  It is a real treat to find road tar art and I sometimes wonder if the fumes from the hot asphalt has anything to do with the work crew's creativity?

I don't know why I didn't pack my long stretchy cycling pants or my rain booties - I guess I based my clothing decisions on a weather forecast that wasn't aimed at Camrose on Sunday.  For some odd reason I did pack my helmet rain cover and at least I was spared cold rain water dripping down my back.  The bandana also soaked up some of the frigid rain drops and my yellow cycling jacket did an okay job of protecting me.  My cycling friend Molly told me that if I put my cycling jacket into the clothes dryer, the heat would help reactivate the jacket's rain - repelling qualities.

As the day wore on, I was losing feeling in my hands and fingers and shifting became a bit of a challenge.  I found myself wobbling across the paved shoulder every time I reached down to shift and I inadvertantly sliced a few worms in half as my skinny road tires acted like large rolling pizza knives.  Lyn, another MS Tourist,informed me that worms have the ability to regenerate themsleves when cut in two.  So I contented myself with the idea that I was actually expanding the worm population and doing my part in the environmental domain.

What could be better?

Isn't it a wonderful thing to be a cyclist and want to join in one of the many rides that are organized for a good cause or simply to have fun?  My nephew who is currently visiting us showed me a hat that he wears that commemorates a ride in his area.  While I don't know that part of the country well, I figure that according to the design on the hat, the ride goes from Northwest to Southeast across British California.  My reasoning is based on the fact that when my cycling buddy Roy and I cycled to Castlegar from Rock Creek a couple of summers ago, I recall seeing Terrace on one of our maps and it didn't appear to be far from Castlegar.  I once was in Prince George doing a shoot for CN Rail about a new locomotive that the railway had purchased and I knew it was somewhere up in the Northwest of the region.

Myself, I involve myself in two organized rides - both for the MS Society.  There is the 197 Km. Nisku to Camrose tour and the 90 Km. Hinton Mountain Tour.  Last year I read a magazine article about the "Tour De L'Alberta which looks like a fun jaunt which can be customized as to how much (or little) distance one would like to ride.

The bicycle commuters society that I belong to has a Tour De Perogy - a 140 klick ride out to the Ukrainian Village and back that starts at a diner on 99 Street.  Included, but not limited to is a tour of the village and all the perogies you want to scarf down.  If web postings are any indication, it would seem they had a bit of a slog into the wind on the way back into town.  I felt sorry for some of the novices who I knew would be hurting just to get to the village, let alone ride back fighting the wind.

There are gargantuan rides from Vancouver to Edmonton, tours to the Jack Daniels distillery in Tennesse and back (from somewhere in Tennesse and back - not from Alberty).  Nick Lees wrote an article about Le Tour of Hope, an eight day excursion exiting from Calgary and including the summit of the highest paved pass in Canada.  The Cancer Society also has a tour from Calgary into the foothills that has upwards of 2,000 riders (someone who took the ride told me 20,000 riders but I didn't believe her). 

Being a cyclist is a gratifying enough experience and when such an enjoyable diversion can be combined with raising funds for a worthwhile cause, I can't think of anything else I would rather do.

Starlight and Snakes

A baby crying two tents down woke me up at 4am and try as I might to go back to sleep, I knew from experience that it was futile.  Getting up and zipping open my tent, I could see the stars out in full force shining their silvery light on our bikes which were securely locked to the picnic table.  The campground itself was quiet except for the odd snore emanating from one of the nearby tents.  Maybe it was that sound that woke up the baby.

After walking a short ways to a picnic table illuminated by a street light, I added our recent exploits to my notebook.  The air was cold and so when I got back to our site, I decided to go back to bed to warm up in my mummy bag which still retained some of my body heat.  I must have fallen asleep for a couple of hours because when I got up, Roy was packed and ready to go which was a complete reversal from our usual routine which usually saw me tapping my fingers as I waited for my non-morning-person-cycling-buddy to get going.

We made final adjustments to our loads and then said goodbye to all of the neighbours we had met since arriving at the camp.  While we rode out, a biplane was catching everyone's attention as it swooped low between the valley walls.  With today being the Saturday of the Labour Day weekend, we speculated that the pilot was practising for Monday's celebrations.

This particular section of the KVR is nicely paved with a convenient yellow stripe running down its center.  However, not far out of Oliver the trail turns to the gravel of which most of the KVR is constructed.   Both Roy and I had to skirt around a brown snake with black markings and when it didn't move, we decided to stop and pull out notre cameras.  Being avid photogs we spent quite a bit of time snapping pictures and in all that time the snake did not move even when Roy gently touched it with his cycling shoe.  We were convinced that the snake was alive - perhaps it was just being sluggish due to the cooler weather.  This was Labour Day weekend - traditionally the last weekend of summer in our neck of the continent.  You can see from one of the above photos that it was still warm enough to be wearing shorts - although I'm the kind of person who has tried in the past to wear shorts all year long but has usually given up by mid November when even all the fur on my legs is not enough to insulate my stubby limbs.
Next:  "Cassie the Pie Lady" and our first look at Anarchist Mountain

Getting Ready for Kettle Valley

With the clock ticking quickly, I've decided to pass on training tonight for the MS Mountain Tour. Preparations are necessary to ensure that this the 4th annual bicycle camping trip is a success. For the past three years, my cycling friend Roy and I have ridden our bikes along the Kettle Valley Railroad - an old railbed that is part of the Transcanada Trail. We do a different section at a time - usually 400 kilometers.
I have my TREK mountain bike (hereafter called BIG BLUE) up on the repair stand and so far have managed to reinstall the handlebar extensions, the fenders, an extra bottle holder, my unusual hornless bike seat, the rear pannier rack and the front handlebar bag. Oh yeah. Something new this year - an under-the-seat bag specifically to hold bike tools.

During my first year of doing the KVR, I carried 50 lbs. of stuff which I have since whittled down to 30. The weight of water is a concern. You want to bring enough yet you don't want the bike to be too heavy. I know Roy ran out of water one year and 2 years ago we ran out of water at Hydraulic Lake and were saved by a kindly lady at a farm that we had to ride off the trail to reach.

Last night I took the chain off Big Blue and cleaned it in gasoline and while the chain was drying, I cleaned off the rear cassette and front chainring. After installing the chain, I put copious amounts of oil onto each link, knowing that the trail is mighty dusty and the weather forecast is calling for 30 degree + weather which can dry out a chain in no time.

All my gear is laid out in the basement and having done this type of cycling before, I have drawn up a list that I only need to tweak slightly every year. For example, this year instead of taking heavy track pants, I'm packing lightweight nylon/spandex
pants. Why take a spare tube when a patch kit works just as well? I'm convinced that bringing a multitool is worth the extra weight and even though Roy disagrees, I'm bringing along an emergency kevlar spoke.

Another friend, Richard is joining us this year and I'm sure that once we all meet in Naramata, we can pool our resources and save some weight - why would we each need to bring a tire pump? Tire levers? Bike tools? Each year I have brought whistles so that we can signal each other. One blow means a brief stop. Two blows on the whistle means there is a problem. Since Roy usually rides ahead of me, he has never had occasion to use his whistle. Two years ago, just before we descended into Rock Creek, I noticed his rear tire was flatttening and I blew two sharp blasts and we pulled over to fix his tire. I think they are a great idea and again worth their weight.

Since we will be in the woods where there is no outside communication, I won't be updating my blog as often as normal. And besides, I don't want to carry the extra weight of a laptop and all its accessories. I'm proud of my 30 pounds and don't want to upset the fine balance that I have discovered over several years of bicycle camping!

Mountain Tour Training

I spent some time this week stripping my blue TREK mountain bike in preparation for mountain tour training. I normally use the TREK for commuting so quite a lot of accessories had to come off - first the headlight and tail light, then the fenders, next the rear pannier rack and the front handlebar bag and finally the kickstand. As you can see from the photo, there's not much else I could have removed - oh yeah, I did take off the long handlebar extensions and replaced them with shorter and lighter ones.
Our trainer guide is Stew Hutchings from United Cycle along with his riding partner Al. They have us gather around at the parking lot at Terwilligar Park and after discovering that out of the 8 people who showed up, I'm the only one who has done the Hinton Mountain Tour, they explain the requirements of the tour and what to expect. To my surprise, Stew describes the Hinton Mountain Tour as an entry-level mountain biking experience. I found it quite challenging last year and my daughter Jackie and I came through the finish line last on the second day of the tour. So if this is entry-level stuff, then I need this Training!

The sight of nearly 2,000 cyclists and their bikes is an image that never fails to inspire me so I grabbed a few pictures while I waited in the crowd for the tour to start. I was supposed to meet up with my team-mates before the tour began but I was too eager to get going to make a serious effort to find them. Next to me waiting was an old boy like myself and when he grew tired of the speeches, began to heckle the speakers in a loud and petulant voice. His nickname was "Whitey" and he had done the tour many times as evidenced by the many MS stickers on his helmet.

I managed to leave in the first 300-400 riders and was pleased with myself until I realized after being passed a number of times that with approximately 1,500 riders behind me, I was bound to hear "On your left!" many hundreds of times before we got to Camrose! I felt I was just getting warmed up when we turned south and into a headwind that would plague us all the way to Wetaskiwin where lunch was to be served. Then the route would head east and hopefully we'd have the wind on our backs.

For whatever reason, I was insulted when a marshall rode beside me to chat and after a few minutes he asked me just how old was I? He seemed surprised when I answered 57 and anytime he passed me again, he acted like he'd never seen me before. Maybe he lost a bet and was pissed. I wasn't the only greybeard on the tour - the heckler Whitey was a white-beard as well.

Riding into the wind was not fun. I watched my cyclometer as my speed dropped down and down. A rather large and well dressed gentleman wearing a tweed jacket, knickerbocker pants, a white shirt and a bowtie passed me and I thought for sure he would win a prize for best dressed at this evening's banquet. A few moments passed before it occured to me to draft him. His large size would be perfect for blocking the wind and the fact that he was riding a fixie meant that I would be able to stay with him. I had to pedal hard to catch him but I was amply rewarded in energy savings and I rode into Wetaskiwin in much better shape than some of the other cyclists.

During lunch I sat in a small patch of shade and devoured the tasty wrap that Moxies had supplied and joyfully gobbled a huge stack of watermelon slices that I knew would slake my thirst. An older gal, Arlene joined me in the shade and we swapped stories of our ride so far. She explained how she planned to keep her bike in her tent so that she could start whenever she felt like it on Sunday morning instead of having to wait for the bike barn to be opened, releasing all the bikes. I told her how I was going to keep my bike in my room at the hotel and if I didn't have to drop luggage off, I could leave from the hotel since it is on day two's route.

After lunch I rode side by side with another gal - Anna, a yoga therapist. We chatted for some time until she suggested that it would be safer if we rode single file. She was in the lead and it wasn't long before we became separated. I next saw her when I pulled into the rest stop at Gwynne School where she was standing with her camera and took my picture as I rode in. She shouted to me that I should give her my email address but I was too hot to stop right then and a patch of shade was what I wanted the most. I did wonder if our paths would cross again on the tour. With 2,000 cyclist scattered over 200 kilometers, it was highly probable that we wouldn't meet again on the tour.

We had all been warned about road construction near Camrose and it did involve a bunch of us being stopped by a flagman and waiting for the paving crew to finish their immediate task. When we were waved through, I could hear the pearl sized tar bubbles popping beneath my hot tires. Just past the construction, I found a short length of bike chain on the shoulder of the road and I thought it might do as a bracelet.

It was a long single file line of us as we entered Camrose and headed toward the fairground where the day's tour ended and tired riders could retrieve their luggage, set up camp, clean themselves up and get ready for the banquet and the dance that would follow. Just after crossing the finish line, I ran into Stew, our team leader who said he'd make a place for me at the team table and introduce me to my fellow team-mates.

Once in my room, I put the next day's water and powerbars into the bar fridge, had a shower and then put on long pants, a striped shirt and bandana in a lame effort to look "Western" for the themed banquet. It took quite a while to find my team-mates and it was only after I asked the United Cycle mechanics who looked like they were having a great time (everyone wanted to buy them beers either to say thanks or for insurance in case of needing their services the next day). When I found my team-mates, I discovered that there was 16 of us on the team and we had raised $16,000.00! It turns out I knew 2 of them, Karel and Brandy, both from Mountain Equipment Co-op where I frequently shop for gear.

Once the Country and Western band struck the first chord of the night, I took this as my cue to head back to the hotel and prepare for day two of the tour.

Distance:103.58 Time:7:04:02 Av.Speed:14.7 Max.Speed:44.3